


More Things

by chellachaz



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen, Hamlet is a troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellachaz/pseuds/chellachaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Act III from Horatio's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mr. Grosz](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mr.+Grosz).



Act III, Scene i

Being a friend of Denmark's prince had its side effects. The most interesting of those being everyone's tendency to assume that he belonged wherever he was. The guards had learned, early on, not to stop Hamlet's friends when they tried to follow him into a room.

"Where I go, they go. I trust them with my life more than I'll ever trust you," the young prince had argued during his school days. (Hamlet could truly throw a tantrum back then, so none of the guards argued with him unless necessary.)

Hamlet guarded his companions so closely that the palace staff eventually just came to see them as extensions of Hamlet himself.

Thus, no one looked twice at Horatio loitering outside of the king's chambers. He wondered if they ever confused him for furniture.

"An’ can you by no drift of conference  
Get from him why he puts on this confusion,   
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet   
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?" came the king's voice from the other side of the doors.

 _Eavesdropping on a king_ , Horatio thought wryly, _I may as well sign my own death warrant_.

Shifting his feet, he sought his resolve, gave it a rough tug, and reclaimed it.

 _Hamlet. This is for Hamlet. My life is forfeit if its preservation endangers him_.

What he hoped to glean from the new monarch's conversation with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Horatio could not say. He did stand by what was agreed in the courtyard, though: "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark."

Rot spreads. If Hamlet wished to cut it off at the source, Horatio would help.

_Treason, though. Are we both traitors to the crown...? No, if that...that apparition's appearance means anything, it is that nothing is as it seems._

> _"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."_

Hamlet had kept his mouth shut after Old Hamlet's ghost had appeared, but it was obvious that he suspected Claudius of some foul play. His attitude had evolved, it seemed, in the course of that one night. Where there once had been annoyance and vague distrust of his uncle, Hamlet now seemed to carry a boiling hatred for the man.

Yes, Claudius was guilty, but of what? Had his brother's ghost appeared to convict the man of murder? It was horrible to think, but Horatio could see few other conclusions.

The scholar came back to himself just in time to hear Rosencrantz say, "We shall, my lord," and make himself scarce.

He thought of spying some more, but decided not to push his luck. The play would start soon, anyway.


	2. Scene 2

Act III, Scene ii

"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc’d it to you, trippingly on the tongue, but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently, for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear-"

Horatio had to conceal himself behind an arras so as not to draw attention to his wracking body. Logically he knew that he shouldn't be laughing so much — and he'd never been a fan of silent laughter in the first place — but that was just so Hamlet. He supposed that the man needed to get it out; he'd recently gone an entire two days without telling someone how to do his or her job.

Calming himself, he noticed Polonius, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern walking over to Hamlet. The four made quick conversation, establishing that the king and queen would indeed attend the spectacle.

As Rosencrantz and Guildenstern walked away, Hamlet cast his eyes around, most likely to let Polonius know that he wasn't interesting enough to hold the prince's attention. Hamlet had never liked Polonius. Horatio suspected that he was enjoying using the excuse of madness to be rude to the old man.

Then, the prince's eyes fell upon the arras, and of course Hamlet found his hiding place again. He made fast work of detangling himself from the tapestry as his friend called, "What ho, Horatio."

He rolled his eyes and made sure that Hamlet could see it. "Here, sweet lord, at your service."

Hamlet clearly sensed the friendly sarcasm, but chose either to ignore or abolish it with,

"Horatio, thou art e’en as just a man  
As e’er my conversation cop’d withal."

Whatever Hamlet's objective, he'd achieved it. Horatio could be sassy, but his modesty won out over facetiae every time. "O my dear lord—" he tried to object.

Hamlet cut him off with "Nay, do not think I flatter," and leapt into a small monologue, which, now that Horatio thought about it, was uncannily familiar. Honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised not to get a full sentence into a conversation with Hamlet.

He tuned his friend out until the blather became relevant:

"Give me that man

That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him  
In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart,   
As I do thee."

...Alright, so maybe he was listening to the compliments too. But he certainly focused on what came next:

"There is a play tonight before the King,  
One scene of it comes near the circumstance   
Which I have told thee of my father’s death."

Hamlet had actually neglected to fill Horatio in on that, but a grieving prince should be allowed some confusion.  
"I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,   
Even with the very comment of thy soul   
Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt   
Do not itself unkennel in one speech,   
It is a damned ghost that we have seen,   
And my imaginations are as foul   
As Vulcan’s stithy. Give him heedful note,   
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,   
And after we will both our judgements join   
In censure of his seeming."

Horatio briefly reflected that only Hamlet would make revenge so complicated.

"Well, my lord," he replied,

"If ’a steal aught the whilst this play is playing,  
And scape detecting, I will pay the theft."

Hamlet's eyes seemed to alight with gratitude before clouding over once more in the guise of madness. The other spectators had arrived.

"They are coming to the play. I must be idle; get you a place."

Horatio was already moving.

Once he'd found a seat in the back corner, the scholar watched as Hamlet subtly sassed his stepfather, subtly sassed Polonius, subtly insulted his mother's looks, and then proceeded to sexually harass Ophelia.

Horatio felt a headache coming on.

As the play's summarizing pantomime ended, he set his eyes upon the king. A slight furrowing of the brow was all that his countenance betrayed — not nearly enough to pin him as a murderer. Horatio glanced over to see what Hamlet thought of the king's reaction, only to find him...being Hamlet.

"We shall know by this fellow," the young prince was telling Ophelia, indicating an actor who'd just appeared, "The players cannot keep counsel, they’ll tell all."

Ophelia — _Lord, bless her heart,_ Horatio thought. — asked, "Will ’a tell us what this show meant?"

A positively wicked smile curled upon Hamlet's face, and Horatio tried to prepare himself. He didn't quite succeed.

"Ay," the prince answered, "Or any show that you will show him. Be not you asham’d to show, he’ll not shame to tell you what it means."

Not even a quest for vengeance could tame that which was Hamlet.

Horatio tried to spend the rest of the show watching Claudius. (He refused to acknowledge Hamlet's silliness at the moment. "Mouse-trap" indeed.)

Then the king interrupted the show with better evidence of guilt than either of them could have hoped for. He ran away.

While everyone else panicked about the king's mood and fled, Hamlet sprinted over to Horatio, proclaiming,

“'Why, let the strooken deer go weep,  
The hart ungalled play,   
For some must watch while some must sleep,   
Thus runs the world away.'

Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers—if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me—with two Provincial roses on my raz’d shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players?"  
Horatio couldn't help smiling at Hamlet's antics. He had always admired Hamlet's ability to conceive an appropriate metaphor for any given situation.

"Half a share."  
"A whole one, I," the prince argued,   
'For thou dost know, O Damon dear,   
This realm dismantled was   
Of Jove himself, and now reigns here   
A very, very'—pajock."   
"You might have rhym’d," Horatio muttered. The obvious rhyme was "ass."

Hamlet sobered suddenly, making Horatio think, for a moment, that he'd said something wrong. Then tears pricked in Hamlet's eyes as he whispered, "O good Horatio, I’ll take the ghost’s word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive?"  
"Very well, my lord."   
"Upon the talk of the pois’ning?"

"I did very well note him."

The tears then spilled over in a hysterical sort of joy. Hamlet turned towards the stage to call,

"Ah, ha! Come, some music! Come, the recorders!  
For if the King like not the comedy,   
Why then belike he likes it not, perdy.   
Come, some music!"

Then Rosencrantz and Guildenstern reentered to send Hamlet to his mother. They were, of course, met with snark.

"Make you a wholesome answer—my wit’s diseas’d. But, sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command, or rather, as you say, my mother. Therefore no more, but to the matter: my mother, you say—"  
"Then thus she says:" stated Rosencrantz, grateful to be able to get a word in, "Your behavior hath strook her into amazement and admiration."   
"O wonderful son, that can so ’stonish a mother! But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother’s admiration? Impart."   
"She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed."   
Hamlet nodded in mock sobriety. "We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any further trade with us?"   
Here, Rosencrantz hesitated before saying, more quietly, "My lord, you once did love me."   
Hamlet raised an eyebrow. "And do still, by these pickers and stealers."   
Behind Rosencrantz, Guildenstern's brow furrowed in frustration while his counterpart continued trying to get through to the prince.   
"Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely bar the door upon your own liberty if you deny your griefs to your friend."   
"Sir, I lack advancement."   
Horatio's eyes flicked over to Hamlet. Does he mean to say that he suspects his treason will be met with death, or does he intend to save anyone else the trouble?

"How can that be," Rosencrantz asked, "when you have the voice of the King himself for your succession in Denmark?"

"Ay, sir, but 'While the grass grows-'”

-the horse starves.

"-the proverb is something musty."  
Enter the Players with recorders.   
"O, the recorders! Let me see one.—To withdraw with you—why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?"   
Guildenstern basically grunted, "O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly."   
"I do not well understand that," Hamlet replied with a scathing smile, "Will you play upon this pipe?"

"My lord, I cannot."  
"I pray you."   
"Believe me, I cannot."   
"I do beseech you."   
"I know no touch of it, my lord."   
"It is as easy as lying." And here, Hamlet's smile turned caustic. "Govern these ventages with your fingers and thumbs, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops."   
"But these cannot I command to any utt’rance of harmony. I have not the skill."   
The prince's eyes sharpened in anger. "Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. ’Sblood, do you think I am easier to be play’d on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you fret me, yet you cannot play upon me."   
Before the shocked duo could answer that accusation, Polonius entered. The old man wisely chose to ignore the fact that the four friends looked ready to go to blows with each other. Hamlet offered a terse, "God bless you, sir."   
Polonius nodded. "My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently."   
Turning away from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Hamlet gestured for Horatio to pay attention to what he said next. "Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel?"   
Polonius blinked before stuttering, "By th’ mass and ’tis, like a camel indeed."   
Hamlet glanced at Horatio as if to say, "See? He's hopeless," and then told Polonius, "Methinks it is like a weasel."   
Horatio couldn't tell if Polonius was exceptionally dull or just tolerating Hamlet's nonsense out of respect for his station. "It is back’d like a weasel."   
"Or like a whale."   
"Very like a whale."   
"Then I will come to my mother by and by," Hamlet agreed before muttering something else under his breath.   
Polonius nodded. "I will say so."   
No sooner had Polonius left than Hamlet said,

“'By and by' is easily said. Leave me, friends."  
As he left, Horatio could still hear Hamlet ranting to himself:

"’Tis now the very witching time of night,  
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out   
Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood,   
And do such bitter business as the day   
Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mother.   
O heart, lose not thy nature! Let not ever   
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom,   
Let me be cruel, not unnatural-"

The prince's voice tapered off with the distance. Horatio fretted.


	3. Scene 3

Act III, Scene iii

Realizing that he'd left his purse in the room where the play was held, Horatio turned around and came across Hamlet along the way. He was about to call out to his friend, but was struck by the thunderous expression on his face.

Then, he saw the king, some distance away, on his knees. Horatio's blood ran cold.

_Surely, he will do it now. O, Hamlet what will become of you once you have killed the king? Will anyone believe our fantastic tale? No, no one will entertain a story of ghosts and subterfuge. Hamlet, stay a while!_

Hamlet's lips moved, but Horatio could only hear his own heartbeat.

Then the prince turned and left. Claudius, painfully unharmed, rose to his feet. Horatio stumbled out of the room in a sort of inexplicable terror. He barely heard the king say,

"My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:  
Words without thoughts never to heaven go."

Horatio left to pray himself.


	4. Scene 4

Act III, Scene iv

He found himself wandering the halls a while later, not quite sure what to do with himself. Eventually, he decided to meet up with Hamlet after his discussion with the queen. His mention of feeling bloodthirsty earlier had worried Horatio. Nearing the queen's quarters, the scholar heard his friend's voice.

"Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.   
Good night, mother."

Then Hamlet appeared.

Dragging a body.

Polonius's body.

Horatio's eyes followed the trail of blood before flicking up to Hamlet's face. He was surprised to see that the prince looked how he felt, and that he didn't have a word for that feeling.

They were resigned. Sad. Weary. And they knew that this was where the end began.

Hamlet nodded at Horatio. Horatio nodded back. Then, they parted ways.

The rest was silence.


End file.
